14491/They Mostly Come Out At Night

They Mostly Come Out At Night
Date of Scene:	30 July 2022
Location:	Central Harlem, Manhattan
Synopsis:	Dinah returns to Luke's bar for her bike and a hangover remedy. Who knew that a street fight was so effective?
Cast of Characters:	Luke Cage, Black Canary

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Luke Cage has posed:
Harlem has been more than a little abuzz since the explosion of a gang's amassed ammunition stockpile. No good can come of that incident. That is the prevailing opinion. It is one that Luke can't help but share if he's honest. He kept his ear to the ground and an eye on Black Canary's bike if only because he gave her his word that he would. He's been true to his word, the bike is where it was left, and still untouched.

He is inside the bar, currently wiping down a few tables after a number of customers have left for the night.

Black Canary has posed:
How humiliating. Having to take a rideshare to pick up her bike. Damned Diana wouldn't let her abuse the JLA teleporter for that. Could this guy drive any SLOWER!?

When she finally gets outside Luke's bar, still somewhat hungover, she makes a beeline for the bike to make sure it's OK before heading into the bar.

"Bartender!" she calls out. "Hair of the dog!" She winks at Luke after locating him. "How you doing, Slugger?"

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage looks up as he finishes wiping down the last of the tables. He gives the blonde a measured glance.

"Ms Canary. I'm alright." He gives her a second cautious once over before heading behind the bar, "The whole burrough is unsettled from what went down last night. Lot of talk. Lot of unease" he says as he casts another heavy look at her before finally asking, "What'll you have?"

Black Canary has posed:
"Call me Black," Dinah says with an affable smile. "And honestly, if you've got a hangover remedy, I'll take that. Otherwise it's water. Plenty of it."

She tosses her thumb over her shoulder.

"You kept the bike nice. Thanks."

Face goes more serious.

"And yes, I gather there's unease. Not the least of which being why this one gang had that arsenal. I'm guessing other gangs are feeling vulnerable and looking to maybe pre-settle scores?"

She sits at the bar, crossing her legs, habitually turning to display them as the distraction they're meant to be. "Getting the bike's only part of why I'm here. I could have had that picked up for me. I'm back for a few answers about why what was supposed to be a van of coke turned into a van of explosive ordnance. And I figured, this is your town, you might want in."

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage chuckles quietly, "Sorry. Can't do that." Call her Black. There's a glint in his eyes that suggests hes joking. Then he looks serious "Oh, I've got a good remedy." He pauses then ticks off the ingredients, "Cayenne, hot mustard powder, ipecac, asafoetida.." He thinks, ".. and croton oil. With just a dash of gun powder." He smirks at her, very clearly just rubbing it in.

He turns and begins to take a number items of the fridge under the bar. cubed pineapple, a banana, a bottle of coconut water, what looks like some grated ginger. He begins to measure things out properly, tossing them into a well used blender followed by a scoop of ice.

He sets the blender on the counter right in front of her. With an expression lacking a lot of mercy or empathy, he hits the button.

The old school blender is about as loud as a jet engine that just ingested a truckload of gravel. Even after the ingredients have been smoothely blended the thing whines at a peircing pitch. Finally he turns it off and shakes out the smoothie into a tall glass, getting every last drop. Adding a fat straw, he slides it over.

"Finish this and you'll start feeling better." Or maybe it's just because that horrible blender has been unplugged and put away.

Meanwhile, across the street a figure turns away from watching the bar and walks down an alley. A cellphone is pulled out. "She's there."

Black Canary has posed:
"Shit man," Dinah tries to say over the sound of the blender, but fails to make herself clearly heard. "Did I piss you off that much?"

The blender shuts down just as she bellows out, "I SAID I'M SORRY! WHY YOU G..." She pauses, glowers, and continues in a normal voice. "...otta be so damned harsh!?"

She takes the smoothie, though, when it's slid her way and she downs it, not even making a face. Largely because it tastes amazing.

"Wow! How much I owe you for this!?" she asks. "This is amazing!"

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage just watches with an expression something akin to an "Uh-huh." in response to her complaining.

"The cure isn't the drink." It's the blender turned up to 11 at point-blank range. "I went easy on you. Usually it's two cups of ice." He could be bluffing. He probably is based on the flavor of the drink. Extra ice would just water it all down.

Just as he is about to tell her what she owes him, four cars speed toward the bar, stopping outside. One of them on the sidewalk. The doors open and out spill the new leader and a good part of his manpower from the gang Black Canary had cross words with the night before.

Luke sighs. "Help me clean up this mess and that one, and the next one are on the house." He steps out from behind the bar holding a trusty Louisville Slugger by the fat end of the barrel, the rest of the bat rising up behind his thick forearm and bicep essentially hiding it.

Black Canary has posed:
"I know this tune."

Canary says it matter-of-factly, almost wearily.

"I'll keep it out of the bar."

And that's when the fishnet-clad hellion leaps toward the door, a quick dip in her pockets leaving her hands sporting brass knuckles.

A shoulder hits the door from the inside as the first goon reaches for it from the outside. Door and goon find they can't occupy the same space at the same time. Goon goes flying, with Canary, rolling low and then bouncing high to take out another two in a roundhouse face-high kick.

"And after I saved your damned lives, you ingrates!" she snarls.

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage shakes his head, "I'm not asking you to do this alone, Canary. They've already brought this to my bar because you're here. They'd come inside if you didn't go out. That makes this my problem too. For the sake of my bar, and for the safety of the neighborhood."

And she's in motion. Luke, for his part, just strides outside at his own pace. There are - were - fifteen gangers plus the new leader since the last one was taken out and is now in a hospital eating through a straw.

Luke takes in the scene without any sense of urgency. It's like he isn't worried about being harmed. He sighs and swings that bat. The sound of a bat connecting with a skull is not unlike that of hitting a hardball. Maybe a bit lower in pitch but not so different. four now down, 12 to go.

Black Canary has posed:
"These guys aren't even a good work-out!" Dinah complains as she blocks one guy with a tricky punch-block, the blow landing on the attacker's wrist in a way that leaves a nasty snapping sound and a scream in the air. "Hey, I've got an idea. Can you tie a foot behind my back so this is more of a fair fight?"

The banter seems to offend the machismo of the gang-bangers, who are now redoubling their effort to take Dinah down. A vicious knife swipe gets converted into a spastic knife throw, the wielder's arm's nerves going numb after a short burst of agonizing pain.

"Let me at this bitch!" one of the people at the back goes, with his compatriots splitting ahead of him to provide him a channel forward.

The guy does a fancy routine with a pair of nunchuks showing very impressive flair.

"Now that's the spirit!" Dinah says, crowing. "This is the kind of stuff I'm looking for. Hey, Luke, the kid with the grain thresher is mine."

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage is currently swinging his own way through three of the gangers closest to him. He blocks an tire iron - with his forearm as if it were a pool noodle. He jabs the blunt end of the baseball bat into the man's throat, leaving the guy rolling on the ground choking and wheezing. The bat is used to knock another head, and then loosen up several ribs on the third of the men. Five more down. This math exercise now indicates there are but seven left.

"Don't play with your food, Canary. These boys are beat their bodies just don't know it yet."

Black Canary has posed:
Dinah watches with undisguised amusement as the guy does his routine. She makes a running commentery. "Monkey climb mountain. Crouching tiger. Dragon rising... noice!"

A smart person would be nervous that she can name the moves as he does them. He is not a smart man. He instead grins.

"Yeah, bitch. And now you're going down!"

He lunges forward to strike, only to find that Canary isn't in the strike zone any longer.

One of his friends is, though, and the nunchuk hits him in the side of the face, shattering the jaw. Followed by a booted foot from behind taking the nunchuk wielder face-first into his own buddy's bloodied face.

"I don't go down on the first date," she says.

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage leaps across the trunk of one car, landing beside the gang leader. THat leader is watchin Canary at the moment, so Luke drives his fist into the face of another gang member as he pulled a knife. The knife falls as does the ganger.

Now down to four total, three are trying to, well, gang up on Canary, coming at her from three directions at once.

THe leader turns, pulling a pistol so large it is clear he is over compensating for his inability to lead. Luke sighs, "Not the shirt. I like th-" The gun fires twice at point blank.

"...ow." Luke growls as the flatted bullets fall away from his chest. There are two holes in that shirt "See? The pain pisses me off. The fact you ruined my shirt?" A huge paw like hand grabs the leader's hand with thie gun and sqeezes down. The punk howls in pain as bones break in bad ways around the grip of the pistol. When Luke removes his hand, the gun falls and the mans hand looks extremely damaged. He drives his fist into the leader's face once, breaking his nose as the guy goes down. "That's what really makes me unhappy."

He looks to Canary to see how she handles her three suitors.

Black Canary has posed:
By this point, Dinah is just finding her own amusement in a one-sided battle that just isn't providing any challenge whatsoever. The gunshots catch her attention, but seeing Luke handle them somehow (she's not at an angle to see how), and that he's got the gunner down, she decides to play with her toys for one more round.

She leaps into a horizontal roll. (This is, of course impossible.) She does so in a way that lands her in the arms of the middle of her three assailants, who reflexively catches her such that she looks like a woman who's been swept off her feet by a lover. (This is, of course, ludicrous.) She twists his head to the right, causing him to reflexively turn the same direction to (ineffectively) reduce the pain of that pressure. (This is, of course, so dumb it could only happen in a comic book.) This brings her feet into neck kicking range of one of the assailants, who crumples to his knees, desperately trying to figure out if he can still breathe as his throat begins to swell. (This is so dangerously over the top that only an Arnie movie would show this bloodless and deathless.) She twists the head the other direction, which brings her fists in range of the remaining assailant not currently occupied holding Canary up like he's going across the threshold with her. Fists that bruise a kidney, crack two ribs, and, quite possibly, tear a hole in the spleen.

It's not a pleasant scream.

"Darling, so sudden?" she asks the bewildered 'groom' with the very sore neck. "How do I know what kind of guy you are?"

The 'groom' drops her with a little "Oof!" as she hits the ground.

"That wasn't nice!" she says, rolling away and back up to her feet.

Honeymoon is over, it seems.

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage is in clean up mode. He walks over to one of the downed gangers who is trying to get up. "Should have stayed down." The bat swings and ensures just that with that wood on bone sound. He looks toward Canary then to make sure she doesn't need back up. Because he knows she doesn't.

Black Canary has posed:
The 'groom' stands there, in shock, as he stares at all the downed bodies around him, some groaning, some puking, some curled up into a screaming balls of pain.

And one of the two sources of this pain is standing in front of him, arms crossed, eyes staring.

"Boo!" Dinah shouts, then, leaping a little forward, making the guy backpedal, windmill, trip over one of his downed compatriots, and go down.

Hard.

Coconut breaking sound hard.

"OK," she says, dusting off her hands symbolically, turning to Luke. "That's the last of them. Now which one gets the questioning."

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage looks around, bat still in hand. Two bullet holes in his shirt. His skin has powder residue but there are no wounds. Not even broken skin. Maybe that's why he resented being called a meat shield. Sometimes the truth hurts.

"You've got a bike. You're free to get out of here. I can't move my bar. I'll talk to the PD. I'll call it in for that matter. Go on and head out. You met your part of our deal. Next hangover remedy is on me like I promised." He looks to her with a final nod of thanks.

Black Canary has posed:
"Nonsense, Luke," Dinah says. "I've got League credentials and SHIELD ones. Even if the cops don't especially like Team Spandex, they'll respect the creds or, you know, they get a visit from Supes, or Diana, or, you know, worst of all, the Batman."

She feigns a shudder.

"I don't wish Bats on my worst enemies, not to mention cops."

Back to brash as brass. "So I'm here with the cops. If you're in good with them, fine. You take point, but I've got your back. If you're not in good with them, also fine. I take point and keep them from pinning shit on you."

And with that she pulls a bunch of zip ties out of her pocket.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some hog-tying to do."

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage smirks at her words "I'm just a small business owner in Harlem who happens to be a part of the neighborhood block watch. I protected my customers from dangerous gang and criminal activity."

A nod as she begins to detain the downed thugs. "That's all you, Lady. I'll get it called in. Be right back." He steps back inside and makes the call. A few minutes later he comes back out. "They should be here in a few minutes. At least the first squad anyway. They won't take my promises of sixteen gangers as legit till the first unit has eyes on. Then they'll radio for the paddy wagon, an ambulence or three and some to trucks to get these junkers out of here."

Black Canary has posed:
The next little while is taken up by cops asking questions, cops not accepting answers, cops getting told the answers again, Dinah pulling out her JLA credentials and asking if they want to instead talk to Wonder Woman, cops deciding they have better things to do with their few remaining years of life, and all the while ambulances and other vehicles coming in to do their little business.

In the end, though, they go off, some of them muttering a bit at 'vigilante justice' and Canary heads back into the bar, sitting in a seat and putting her booted feet up on another.

"Let's talk about ... bullets, Luke," she says with a grin.

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage looks at the blonde and snorts, "Shit." He turns and walks back inside and behind the bar where he pours himself a tumbler of that same bourbon he sold her the night before. A half glance and a pause. Then he pours her a tumbler-full as well before sealing the bottle and putting it away. No drinking through the bottom of the bottle this time.

He takes a stiff swallow from his glass before regarding her. "Yeah. I'm a meat shield. Sue me."

Black Canary has posed:
And at that Dinah dissolves into laughter.

"You're a ... meat ... shield!" she laughs, actual tears flowing from the laughter. "No fucking wonder you snapped my head off! Holy shit if this isn't the funniest thing I've ever heard!"

She suppresses the laugh, but her eyes are still filled with mirth.

"So, tell me, will you forgive me if I let you call me a glass ninja?"

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage smirks, "Laugh it up, Screech Owl." He's joking as well. "I don't need to call you names to feel better." He tosses off the last of his tumbler in one large gulp. "I forgave you by the time I told you it was the bourbon talking, not you." He watches her as she gets over her laughter, still half smirking himself. "But maybe I'll change my mind just to make you dangle on the hook a little longer?" Not like he can having just admitting he'd gotten over it.

Black Canary has posed:
"Nah, we're cool," Dinah says, laughter subsiding. "I just now understand why you were so pissed. Must get that a lot from people once they realize you're bulletproof. Makes it sting even more when someone who doesn't know that calls you this."

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage shrugs. "Not even that, Canary. I wasn't upset that you didn't know." He looks at her pointedly. "It doesn't have anything to do with my abilities - which I didn't inherit or ask for they were forced on me, so we're clear." He leans on the bar with his forearms, looking out at the room rather than at the blonde heroine. "What upset me was how quickly you seemed to dismiss me as someone that was just muscle. Expendable. Whatever your intentions are, I can tell you now that not many people want to be told they're just a meat shield for you or anyone else to hide behind."

He looks back to her "Even when it happens to be true. And I'm not upset. I'd just hope you would reconsider why you use that term, or any term. And whether or not they represent who you are. Because that isn't the kind of woman, or member of the League, that the public thinks you are." Unsaid, but obvious is that he is amongst those who thought differently of her than her words portrayed her.

Black Canary has posed:
Dinah scratches her head in a reflex, face in wry mode. "Yeah, well, sorry 'bout that. But that was really my internal labels for people slipping out. I mean seriously, I do call myself a glass ninja. 'Cause I can't be hit, but if I do ..." She mimes a glass exploding. "... I just don't have your durability. It's a mental ... shorthand, call it. I don't mean anything by it."

She pinches the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes.

"Like Kal-El of Krypton, a.k.a. Superman. I adore him. Greatest thing that happened in my life was impressing him. He's a meat shield in my mind. Most moral, straightforward, kindest man I've ever met. It's ... I ... just don't usually say it out loud. It ... blurted out."

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage nods. "I'm not judging you, Canary. I don't have that right. I'm asking you to consider the impact of your words. Even seemingly harmless words in the wrong moment or to the wrong audience,? Well I'll over simplify it, because it was somethng told to me years ago that made enough of an impression I remember it still. Words are like toothpaste. Once it's out of the tube there's no putting it back."

He stands up and offers his hand to her, "I'm just a small fish in a big pond. And I'm okay with that. It has been a pleasure to meet you and fight beside you. I respect your skill and abilities and what you stand for. Going beyond professional courtesies, you're welcome here any time you feel like dropping by. You'll get no grief here, I'll see to it. Just come by and be yourself. No strings attached."

Black Canary has posed:
"You have the right. You're keeping a neighourhood clean. That's no less important than anybody else fighting on the right side of justice." Canary looks around the bar. "And you know what, when I'm in Harlem I'll do just that. This place is comfortable, and I can get my head straightened around by the toughest shrink in the biz, apparently."

Yeah, that look is back in her eyes.

"Wish I could be myself, though. I'd have to come in the fishnets though. The other me would NOT blend in."

The proffered hand is accepted and with surprising strength the shake is given.

Well, surprising to any normal human. Luke might not notice it.

"And if you need a battle bitch by your side, let me know. BTL-BTCH." She mimes dialing a phone on her hand.

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage shakes his head, "I don't need to protect the neighborhood from you. That you're here helping around here? That means a lot more than you realize." Even with the crazy explosion.

He shakes the hand firmly. "I said you're welcome here. However you show up, I'll see that you are left alone if you want to be." He smiles. "I look after friends. And in case you didn't notice, not everynoe in Harlem is ethnic for a lack of an easier way to put it. You'll fit in fine if you decide you want to."

A deep laugh. "Well, I've seen the Battle. And I've seen the Bitch." He winks, "I think I like them both. For different reasons. They're both welcome here. Or any combination thereof" he adds with a smile.